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“This was a strange practice. And i had only just gotten ready for it when the ores started arriving. We had fired up the forge. Using the forgefire, that Lord Rage had taught me. From the little orb filled with magic that he had given me, we could run Forgefire for a long time. It was something that I was getting used to as the first ore of spiritite was lain into the forge. Melting nearly instantly. We had started to pour more into the process. It was exciting to me I had never done this before!
The process of melting ore that had not already been processed. The man that was my guide here, made the motions that were required of a smith. Master smiths at that. However, the power he drew was not proportional to the spells he cast. They were hundreds of small spells. I could feel him drawing power from the lump he had been and was still holding in his hand. I started casting my own spells. The man was not a proper magician. Though he was not doing anything but layering a lot of minor spells.
As the lumps of spiritite was melting under the heat, i was starting to weave the spells that I found to be working in a stable manner into the molten metal. Some of them suddenly snapped into existence.
I could feel the smithy started twitching muscles around. And a hammer was lifted, tongs were getting ready to pick out the moulded bar of the terrible metal. The material was already soft enough to be plied. And there would be something of a strange cosy feel to the heat; the feel one gets through the use of materials that were and are all too powerful for ones own good.
I looked at the smithy’s body, the spirited man, his body was sitting peacefully on the floor. The man had his arms crossed. And the power that flowed through the rock that was the first sample of pacified spiritite. It poured power into that human form.
We started pounding the metal. I could feel tool-assisting spells, layer themselves around my arms. There were a particular song apparently that the smithy would sing when he made his best works. So many things were getting done at the same time that i could not properly gauge the effects of all of them. I had started melding one of the strange ideas that I had through the lump of material as we were making the next bar of the material. Most of my swords were there. In those two bars. However my subjects had started getting a lot of the ore at the same time.
They had found an interest in the form of mining and mined so much that i would be able to make braces form the same material. And the smithy was getting annoyed as we got the fifth, and sixth bar. There was soon a veritable mountain of ready made bars, that were soft pliable, and ready for more work. It ended with us starting on the swords, and starring on an armour. I was most fond of armours made from hundreds of scales. Those gave a lot of mobility. Which was something i was used to work with, and a lot of protection over other constructed armours. The smithy agreed that this would be one of the more fitting ones for my uses. For the tourney we made the swords. And they were marvels.
I am sure we had been folding that material for thousands of times. From time to time melting inn some sand. Forming little orbs of glass inside the swords. Along the spine of the swords, there formed orbs of glass. Some kind of special glass that the smithy would not answer me about. At the very last moment, the small glass orbs were inserted. Their spells took immediately. The spells inside them started folding out om into the spines of the swords, and the little orbs the good blacksmith had inserted.
The result were grey swords, that were unbreakable. The finish was not yet done. And that is when the swords really started to shine. The swords had cracks running along the edges. Though not more than visible. The cracks shone through. Light that came through those cracks. A dull, but at the same time strong blue light. The light was harsh to look directly at, but through the side of your eyes, or a glass pane.. It was alright.” ~ Zerxes, the Legendary necromancer
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